Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3

by Coley, Joseph

  Curtis continued to shine the end of the M4 around the lobby, clicking on the flashlight on the end of it as he did. There was no indication from the lobby that anyone had done anything to barricade themselves in or had done anything to protect the inhabitants within. Curtis stepped through the door, followed by Cooper and Joe. Joe pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shone it throughout the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary aside from the stench of death and feces. The staff looked as if it had long abandoned the small nursing home and all of its occupants. The unmistakable shuffling of undead was the only thing that could be heard, and the only thing that cut through the smell of decay. Cooper pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth to keep from gagging. Even Joe paused at the smell of the entire place. The shuffling continued as Curtis and Joe moved their respective lights around the room and towards the double doors to the left of the receptionist’s desk. As the lights fell on the panes of glass, Joe and the other two men saw the same thing.

  Zombies.

  There were apparent geriatric zombies milling around in front of the doors. Joe snickered to himself at the thought of some of the people he had transported over the years that looked like zombies before they actually were amongst the undead. Joe grabbed his tomahawk from his belt and gripped it, spike end first. He crept over to the door and shone the light through the glass. The geriatric undead slowly turned to the glass and made a paltry advance on the it. The two zombies he could see made a weak pawing at the door glass. Joe motioned back to Curtis to put his M4 down. Curtis did as he was asked and lowered the weapon, turning off the light on the end as he did. He unsheathed the large Ka-Bar knife that he carried near his left shoulder. He turned the blade backwards, gripping it the opposite way he normally would. Cooper grabbed his bat with both hands, resting the bat on his shoulder, ready to swing.

  Joe made a hand signal of “3, 2, 1,” and shoved the door open with his shoulder, knocking both of the zombies harmlessly to the ground. Joe pounced on the first one, swinging the tomahawk firmly into the skull of the fallen zombie. Curtis followed suit, ramming the Ka-Bar into the skull of the second zombie as it made a very weak attempt to get itself back up. Cooper slunk into the hallway with Curtis and Joe, backing himself up to the door as he came into the area. Joe got to his feet and shone the flashlight again. He looked to his right and did not see any movement. He looked to his front and down the hallway as well, noting another zombie shuffling about near what looked like the nurse’s station. It was dressed as the two zombies that they had just killed were; a wrinkly old ass showed through the back of a poorly fitted hospital gown. Joe again chuckled to himself. If the world ever gets back to normal, I have got to get a psych eval, Joe thought to himself.

  Joe wrenched the tomahawk from the skull of his twice-dead combatant and kept it in his hand. Curtis did the same with the Ka-Bar that he had plunged into the forehead of his zombie. He took and wiped off the fleshy bits of brain from the blade. Cooper stalked down the hallway and readied his bat on his shoulder, pacing after the lone zombie at the nurse’s desk. Curtis started to interrupt by he in turn was interrupted by Joe. He clasped his hand on Curtis’ shoulder and shook his head “NO.” Joe pointed to a sign on the wall that was what they were there for.

  MED CART STORAGE it said boldly.

  Curtis grinned and glanced back to Cooper, still stalking his way down the hall. He waved his hand in contempt and instead grabbed Joe’s outstretched hand to help him upright. Joe waved his flashlight silently at the door. Curtis nodded in acknowledgement and crept over to the door. Joe grabbed the handle on the door, and much to his disdain, it was locked. He hung his head, hand still on the door. He gazed down to the tomahawk in his right hand and tapped the glass with the spiked end. He continued rapping with the spike until the glass window finally gave way, shattering a little louder than he would have liked. Joe and Curtis both cringed as the shards hit the tiled hallway beneath them, echoing throughout the abandoned facility. Joe reached through the broken glass and unlocked the door, swinging it open and stepping inside.

  Once they had gained access to the room Joe and Curtis both began filling the pack with the meds that they needed, along with quite a few that they did not. Some of the meds were not needed at the moment, but it never hurt to have. Joe took his tomahawk and pried open some of the med carts, obtaining access to the much-needed narcotics and other sedatives. The also much-needed antibiotics were in great supply as well as Joe expected. Amoxicillin, azithromycin, doxycycline, Cipro, and others were plentiful. Joe stuffed the bag with the bottles and what IV supplies they could muster for several minutes when they heard a crash coming from down the hallway. Joe and Curtis both shot up and remained motionless until they could pinpoint the location of the sound.

  “I bet that was Cooper’s dumb ass. Keep grabbin’ what you can, I’ll go check it out,” Joe said in a loud whisper.

  “Alright, be careful. If you need me, just holler out.”

  Joe tucked the tomahawk into his belt once more and grabbed his 9mm out of the holster. He took the flashlight in his left hand and crossed it under his right, tactical-style. He crept down the hallway quickly and heard the steady banging of something a few rooms down. He flattened up against the hallway and moved beside the doorframe of the room that was his intended target. As he stopped at the door, he heard Cooper grunting as if he was struggling. Joe took a deep breath and turned the corner, his gun, and flashlight aimed at the sound. He was not prepared to see what was in front of him. He dropped the gun down and stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity. Throughout his ordeal Joe had never seen something as sick as what his eyes had shown him; right before him was a sight that churned his stomach as he only managed a single phrase out.

  “Oh, you sick son of a bitch.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Curtis heard Joe from down the hallway say something, although he couldn’t tell exactly what. He heard Cooper’s voice reply back, much louder than Joe’s tone. The exchange between the two became louder. Curtis zipped up the pack with the essential medical supplies and darted out the door. He turned the hallway to his right and saw Joe as he raised his 9mm and fired twice in slow succession. Curtis jogged down to where Joe was still standing. Curtis rubbed his ears from the report of the gunshots as Joe stood there.

  “I thought we were doing this tactically, why did…”

  Curtis was just as shocked as Joe had been as he turned the corner and saw what had transpired. Cooper was slumped over a female zombie, his pants around his ankles. The female zombie had no doubt been very beautiful; she had a curvaceous body, perhaps in her late thirties and she had long, curly brunette hair that stopped just after her shoulders. Cooper’s bat was underneath her chin at her larynx. Curtis stared in horror as he realized what Cooper had done.

  Joe had caught Cooper having sex with a zombie.

  Not just caught him having sex with one of the undead, but it looked as if the woman had been alive when they got to the nursing home. Cooper appeared to have choked the woman to death with his bat as he was raping her, both killing her and reanimating her within a few short minutes. Joe had taken care of both of the room’s occupants, putting a 9mm round through both of their heads. Curtis stood, still in awe of what he saw. He began piecing together what had happened from the evidence presented. Joe holstered his 9mm and looked slowly to Curtis.

  “You get all of it?”

  Curtis snapped to after a few seconds and shook his head swiftly, clearing the cobwebs. “Uh yeah, yeah, I got it all. Was he doin’ what I think he was doin’?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Sick bastard, at least he’s out of our hair now.” Joe shone the flashlight down the hallway as another boom of thunder rattled; this one was much closer. “I’d say that is our cue to leave then. Don’t you?”

  “Ain’t gotta tell me twice, brother. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

  Joe started his way down the hallway back towards the exit when he heard more of the telltal
e moaning and uncoordinated shuffling of feet. More geriatric zombies and their staff rolled out from inside the patient rooms in front of them. Curtis cinched the pack and brought his M4 back around to his front on the sling and switched the flashlight back on. There were at least ten zombies ahead of them, and more pouring out of the rooms around them. Curtis and Joe exchanged a nervous glance and began firing. Joe raised his 9mm at the first zombie in front of him, about ten feet away. He double-tapped the zombie in the skull, sending bits of brains all over the dirty white walls behind him. The muzzle flash of the guns made a bizarre strobe effect on the approaching undead, making them that much more frightening. Curtis and Joe both stepped forward slowly as the fired off round after round, hitting headshots about three=quarters of the time. They were advancing slower than they were retaining ammo, running low shortly after getting halfway down the hall. Joe’s 9mm’s slide locked back, indicating he was out of ammo in the current clip. He did not bother to reload; instead, he gripped the tomahawk and began swinging with the melee weapon. The zombies he killed laid on the ground in front of him, slicking the tile floor and making it harder and harder to keep his balance as he swung away at two more zombies in front of him, splitting the heads open of the two ghouls.

  The zombies did not make hardly any sound aside from the grunting and growling of their intent to eat Curtis and Joe. Curtis’ M4 clicked empty and he too began resorting to swinging a melee weapon, using the M4 as a club. He swung with it, connecting with a perfect buttstroke to the head of the last zombie in the hallway. Joe regained his balance after chopping the last zombie he saw in the head with a sideways attack of the spiked end of the tomahawk. The two men panted and gasped for air in the enclosed hallway, not able to hear much of anything and smelling only rotten flesh and cordite.

  “Come on, dude. We are almost to the door. Let’s get the hell outta here before Chris and Balboa hit the road,” Joe said, a little louder than he realized. His ears were still ringing from the gunfire. Joe and Curtis hit the door as Chris was coming up to them, his .45 in hand. He had been smart enough to stand aside of the glass doors once the rounds Joe and Curtis were firing began blasting the glass out of them. He stepped on the crunching glass and grabbed Joe as he stumbled through the doorway.

  “Holy shit! Are you guys all right? Did you get the meds? Where is Cooper’s ignorant ass?” Chris fired off questions faster than Joe or Curtis could answer.

  “To answer you, Chris – yes, yes, and he’s dead. Caught that fucker raping a woman to death and raping the zombie she turned into so as far as I'm concerned we are better off.”

  Chris stopped dead in his tracks. “He did WHAT?”

  “You heard me. He was apparently fucking some woman he found, raping her actually. His bat was around the neck of the woman and she didn't look like she had been dead long.”

  “How do you know she turned? Maybe she was just trying to get loose?” Chris said angrily.

  Joe bolted upright and met Chris’ eyes. “Well my guess is that she’s better off dead than a zombie or a rape victim. Don’t you agree?” Joe’s expression turned quickly to anger as he thought of Cooper taking advantage of the woman in the room. He knew that Cooper was dangerous, but he never expected him to do what he had done to the poor woman that probably though she was going to be rescued, not raped.

  Curtis, Joe, and Chris all three came over to the Humvee and silently got in. The rain started coming down in large drops as they did, more thunder rumbled nearby and the flash of lightning lit up the sky. They all looked towards the looming sky as the rain came harder and harder. All three men rode back across town in silence. Joe sat in the passenger’s seat as the rain pounded the Humvee, thinking about what Cooper had done. He wanted to un-see most of what he had witnessed the past week, but none more so than the sight of a grown man killing and raping a poor, undeserving soul.

  The rain continued pounding the Humvee as it neared the airport. The sky was completely and utterly black from the dark night sky, minus the frequent flashes from the light show that Mother Nature was putting on. Balboa had detached the .50 cal from the top of the Humvee shortly before leaving the nursing home, closing the hatch on the Humvee to keep from getting soaked. The Humvee was bulletproof but by no means waterproof as water dripped in from the top of the hatch, pattering the metal divider between the seats. The sounds of the water dripping and the constant boom of thunder was the only noise in the Humvee.

  Balboa, Chris, Curtis, and Joe all had nearly reached the point of exhaustion. It had been a long day overall. Joe had started the morning off by finding out that there was some sort of military presence only to have his hopes dashed once he found out that it might not be what he expected. They had lost Ronnie barely 24 hours ago and Lori less than 48 hours before that. The total number of living people that Joe had killed had been upped now, too. He did not feel the first pang of guilt about killing Cooper or James; both had been dangerous people that the world as a whole would be better off without now. It was a constant reminder, however, of what the world would be like now. Killing would be a necessity from now on and he did not know exactly how he felt about it. Killing the undead felt so impersonal, while killing the living was something that he had vehemently stood against the day before. He had managed to convince himself that saving Lucy had been a worthwhile cause, but for what reason he could not figure. The swirl of emotions that ran through him now was starting to give him a headache. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the Humvee’s passenger seat, wanting so badly to try to drift off to a dream-free sleep. It had not yet come, and may never again.

  Curtis drove the rest of the way through town and back to the entrance to the airport. Amos and Jamie now stood guard at the gates, and upon seeing that the crew had returned and the coast was clear, slid open the chain-link gate. Curtis paused as he approached and waited for the men to open. Once they had, he pulled the Humvee parallel to the gate, this time without the added firepower of the Ma Deuce. Curtis pulled the parking brake on the Humvee and killed the engine, waking Joe in the process.

  “Are we there yet?” Joe said, managing a weak smile as he righted himself in the seat and removed his seatbelt.

  “Yeah, buddy. Home sweet home, for now I suppose,” Curtis replied.

  “Alright, let’s get the meds out and get your sick people some help and then get some rest ourselves. We will do a rotating guard shift with two people and arm them with something besides a baseball bat. We have a couple M4’s left, so we will give each shift a pair if they need ‘em,” Joe said, getting out of the Humvee with the bag of meds. Joe trudged forth, weary, and determined. He was flat exhausted now, but still had work to do before he could go to sleep.

  He brought the meds into the area where his two awaiting patients laid. The man, whose name he still did not know yet, was breathing a little better than when they had left. His fever and chills were evidenced by the fact that even during the relatively cool night the man bunched up the blankets under his chin. Ashleigh and Buffey had taken care of getting IV’s in the elderly man and had normal saline running to at least keep him from getting dehydrated. Joe did not know the exact doses of the IV antibiotics, but thankfully, Curtis had thought enough to snag the A-Z Nurses Drug and Dosage Guide from the nursing home. Joe mixed up the antibiotic cocktail to the best of his ability, erring on the side of caution, and making the mixture a little on the weak side. God forbid that the old man was allergic to any kind of antibiotics or Joe messed up the dosage; there were plenty of variables that he could not account for. Joe started running the antibiotics through, and moved to the elderly man’s wife. He repeated the process and the dosage for her as he had for her husband. Her breathing was shallower than her husband’s and from what Joe could tell her color was worse than when they left. She was in her early fifties, a full ten years younger than her husband, who appeared to Joe to be in his sixties. Joe frowned as he gave the illness more though. She looked to be in relatively good health from what he could t
ell; the mysterious illness should not have had such a drastic effect on her as it had. Joe dismissed the idea and adjusted her IV to the appropriate dose. He felt the woman’s forehead; it was cold and sweaty. He adjusted her tattered blanket, covering her better and left the couple to rest and heal.

  Curtis was gathering his gear for a turn at the guard shift he had set up. Balboa had volunteered to do the next shift with him, as Jamie and Amos had already done more than their fair share of the duty. Jamie came into the terminal with Amos, both men had on military ponchos, no doubt rustled up by Balboa. He had grabbed a great deal of miscellaneous items that Joe had not really put much stock into bringing, but now that they had them, he was not sure how they would have managed without them. Curtis, Balboa, Jamie, Joe, and Amos all convened in the lobby of the terminal to switch shifts and arrange the next.

  “How’s the weather holdin’ up boys? Ya’ll look like we are gonna have to start lookin’ for a boat in the middle of Alabama,” Joe said.

  Jamie slid the poncho off him and gently shook some of the rain off it. “Yeah it is kickin’ up one hell of a storm out there.”

  “Well I will take the next shift with whoever wants to go with me,” Joe said, and was immediately waved a dismissive hand at by Curtis.

  “You will do no such thing, brother. You passed out on us earlier and still managed to go out on the town. After all that, you need a good night’s sleep. When was the last night you got more than a couple hours?”

  Joe scratched the back of his head. He had not had a decent night’s sleep in over a week. Even the nights leading up to the outbreak, he had not had been sleeping well. Nightmares and other assorted misadventures plagued his sleep as much as they did now. He did not know what he looked like, but he knew what he felt like and what he felt like was a good night’s sleep.